


30 Days of M'Challa

by Poplitealqueen



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, M'Challa, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-04-17 06:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14182980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/pseuds/Poplitealqueen
Summary: Day 1: MeetingDay 2: RealizationDay 3: The RevealDay 4: First DateDay 5: ReminderDay 6: New to the FamilyDay 7: LaughterDay 8: First KissDay 9: ThirdwheelingDay 10: FlusteredDay 11: RestDay 12: ShoppingDay 13: Our SongDay 14: StargazingDay 15: Rainy DayDay 16: Super PowersDay 17: Double DateDay 18: Holding HandsDay 19: SpellboundDay 20: Surprise GiftDay 21: DisputeDay 22: AngstDay 23: RescueDay 24: TragedyDay 25: SupportDay 26: Finishing Each Other's SentencesDay 27: MemoriesDay 28: The Power of TwoDay 29: I Love YouDay 30: Smutty Smut Smut Smut





	1. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have ridonkulously crazy for me, fanfic fam, and it's put one heck of a damper on my fanficish exploits.
> 
> On the plus side, though? I got a short story published. Now I'm working on another, hopefully to also be published, AND a book. Fucking crazy, right? ME. Venturing into the publishing world! Who'da guessed? I even entered an essay contest, though I won't know whether I won anything or not for the next couple weeks. In short, as I said, things have been ridonkulously crazy, but in a good way. I'm kinda following my dream, and it's great. Terrifying, but pretty great. Who knows, in the next couple years you might find yourself writing fanfic of a book I wrote! Bahahaha, IMAGINE. I'd scream so loud the martians would hear it.
> 
> Oooh, but I wouldn't be allowed to read fanfic of my own work, huh? Legal reasons and such. *blows raspberry*
> 
> Anyways, enough about me. You came here for fic. I thought the best way to reintroduce myself would be to dive in headfirst and buck-ass nekkid. Expect daily updates of varying length, and, since this is seat-of-my-pants, editing that may not be the shiniest. Once April is done, I'll be sure to go back in and clean everything up. Swearsies.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -Miss Pop

M'Baku expected to walk away a king that day. He had never met the Crown Prince until that moment at the waterfalls, but he had heard countless stories. Of Prince T'Challa's curiosity about the world outside Wakanda's borders; how he had helped to put a mere child in charge of Birnin Zana's technological research, even allowing her to experiment with vibranium as she pleased; how he had been powerless to stop the death of his own father at the hands of colonizers.

M'Baku walked the fields of the Djalia before venturing down from the mountains, spoke with his ancestors, and his forebears had all agreed: he would gain something vital by challenging T'Challa for the crown.

Truthfully, M'Baku didn't wish to rule Wakanda. He held no love for power or star metal or technological advancement, or for constant bickering between heads of state. The Jabari were enough for him, but he was also no coward. Let it never be said that M'Baku, leader of the Jabari, ever fled from a fight.

So, he fought with everything he had. He fought, and was beaten, by a weakling of a Prince that had even needed to weaken himself _further_ to fight M'Baku fairly.

Sinewy arms locked tight around his throat, ankles hooked around his thighs, bursts of light in his eyes and blood in his mouth, and all M'Baku felt was shame. Shame colder than the currents tumbling all around them, threatening to drag both him and the Crown Prince over the edge of those fatal cliffs. How could he face his people after this? How could he live with his weakness bared so completely before so many? For the briefest, most powerful of moments, M'Baku wondered if he what he was meant to gain there was his death.

Then. Hot, panting breath in his ear, and a hoarse voice like the growl of a panther, "I don't want to kill you," Prince T'Challa snarled. "Don't do this, M'Baku. Your people still need you!"

There was desperation in the words; a fierce longing that M'Baku didn't understand but knew was there. Could it be for peace? As quickly as the shame of a lost battle had come, it was replaced by shame for a different sort of loss. M'Baku stilled his struggling in the Prince's grip, and suddenly found himself imagining what this man had gone through. His father, murdered. The culprit no doubt murdered themselves. No chance to grieve upon finally returning home. The king was dead, and a new one needed to be crowned. Death, so much death. Received and given. Not even the Djalia could make that hurt less.

It was no wonder Prince T'Challa wanted no more of it.

M'Baku took a breath, his mouth filling with equal amounts of air and water, and tapped a palm against the forearm pressed under his chin.

"Enough," he ground out. "I yield."

Prince T'Challa unwrapped himself from around M'Baku not a second later, and was on his feet, as sure as a cat even in the churning waters. He was bruised and bloody, his bottom lip split down the middle and one eye squinting shut from a swelling bruise. Yet he smiled as he held out a hand. M'Baku found he couldn't do the same when he took it as he allowed himself to be pulled up and away from the falls, but the warm look made the frigid feeling of the water suddenly seem far away.

"Thank you," said T'Challa, still smiling.

They didn't exchange any more words after that. Their families quickly circled them, colorfully clothed and fur-clad bodies quickly putting distance between the two. Eventually, M'Baku lost sight of the Prince as his clansmen formed protectively around him, and they left the falls through the same tunnel they had entered it. No one stopped them, though the Dora Milaje definitely gave terrific glares in their direction.

M'Baku expected to walk away a king that day. To a gain a crown. Instead, he gained something far more important.

He got to meet T'Challa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * **The Djalia** : the plane of Wakandan memory, a reality that exists outside of time and space, a sort of limbo world that houses all of the history of the nation of Wakanda; an afterlife of sorts.  
> * **Birnin Zana** : Wakanda's capital city  
> * **M'Baku** : Gay as a cock-flavored lollipop for a certain panthery prince. He just doesn't know it yet.


	2. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M'Baku finally figures it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days in a row *inhales* Fucking GOT this!
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> -Miss Pop

M'Baku realizes he might love T'Challa when he sees him in the snow.

Unlike the other tribes, the Jabari had access to neither the Heart-Shaped Herb nor to the sacred sands of the shamans. The only way to visit The Djalia, aside from death itself, was the eternal snow that blanketed their mountaintops. Thus, it had developed a level of sacredness to his people.

Not many of them liked the idea of putting the man that had nearly killed their leader into it, but M'Baku insisted. The sight of T'Challa's broken body, brought to him by a fisherman, had awoken a primal urge to protect him. One that M'Baku thought he would never feel for anyone outside of his tribe.

Prince T'Challa looked almost peaceful as the healers of his tribe set him down in their hut in a square of snow and began to spread it over his limbs, his chest, around his shoulder, neck, and face. The contrast of the colorless snow against his dark skin made T'Challa look ethereal, like a being of the Djalia, strung between life and death. Flecks of ice had settled in his hair like distant stars in the night sky, and before he could stop to think, M'Baku bent down and rubbed them away.

He found that his hand stayed long after the snow and ice were gone, his thumb resting on a cheekbone, his fingers following the path of a strong jaw. Prince T'Challa's eyes were closed, his lips had the faintest shade of blue on them, and he was freezing. It brought M'Baku to the day they had met and fought at the waterfalls; T'Challa with his body wrapped around him, a poised and read weapon, and yet the Prince had spared him. Saved M'Baku from himself by whispering his name against his ear, breath warm. He remembered the way the Prince had smiled at him after the fight, corners pressing up and teeth barely peeking out from between his lips.

M'Baku's eyes kept straying to that mouth, his thumb rubbing small circles against the Prince's cold cheek as he leaned in even closer. He began to wonder what other words would sound like coming from that mouth. His name, for one, not angrily growled, but murmured affectionately or gasped out in a moment of release.

Of...

Taking his hand away carefully (and finding it numb from the snow), M'Baku leaned away from the Prince. When exactly had he knelt? When exactly had he gotten so close? When, and he found himself surreptitiously resting his hands on top of his legs, had he gotten this hard?

He closed his eyes and willed the feeling away. It wasn't difficult surrounded by the cold like this, and soon enough his body was back to normal. His mind, however...

"My chief!" The shout from his clansmen tugged M'Baku out of his thoughts, and he was back on his feet when she appeared at the front of the hut.

"What is it?" M'Baku asked, his voice thankfully only a bit gruff.

His clansmen saluted him in the way of their people, crossing his arms across her chest and bowing her head so that the wooden beads in her hair clicked together. "Our scouts have spotted Queen Ramonda, her daughter, and two others making their way to our village. One of them is an outsider. Should we stop them?"

M'Baku let out a heavy sigh, and stole a glance down at T'Challa. Now the entire royal family was on his doorstep! It M'Baku didn't know better, he would habe said it was fate. His heart began to thunder in his chest, and he looked back to his clansmen. She was doing her best not to look like she was curious about what he was doing there, and failing miserably.

"No," M'Baku finally said. "Send them to my throne room. I wish to know why they're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real reason the Jabari put T'Challa on ice was because he's just that hot. It was the only way M'Baku wouldn't fall madly in love with him, and start a whole Sleeping Beauty magic kiss scenario.
> 
> The kiss might not have happened, but the love kinda did. Whoopsie.


	3. The Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gay reaches a fever pitch. It's an absolute monsoon. Gayest storm of the century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mention Nakia in the tags, because, honestly, I wasn't sure she'd make an appearance in these vignettes.
> 
> But then one thing led to another, mostly my vast amount of love for OT3s and the awesome that is Nakia herself, and THIS happened. I couldn't do my girl dirty by acting like she doesn't exist. That'd be like opening up the gates of Hell and encouraging the Four Horseman to get into a barfight with Satan himself: silly and unnecessary.
> 
> Later chapters will still focus mainly on M'Challa, but know that it has Nakia's seal of approval. Sharing is caring. She ships it.
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> -Miss Pop

"You should tell him."

T'Challa stopped paying attention to what he was doing the moment he heard Nakia walk into his private alcove in Shuri's laboratory (he could always tell it was her), but only looked up when he heard her say that. She was smiling when their eyes met.

He crossed his arms and adopted a nonchalant look, leaning back in his seat. "As I've said, I am not in love with M'Baku."

Still smiling, Nakia walked across the room to his desk and perched herself on the edge. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head as she put her hands on the armrests of T'Challa's chair and pulled him towards her. T'Challa soon found himself between her knees, looking up into her dark, soulful eyes.

"Do you think I am a fool, T'Challa?" She asked, leaning down to press her forehead against his.

T'Challa smiled, jutting his chin up so that he could catch her lips in a kiss. They were warm and soft, and tasted faintly of cherries. Sweet and sharp, just like her. "No," he said, meaning it. "Never."

Nakia's hands left the armrests to press themselves on each side of T'Challa's face as she deepened the kiss. When she was done, they were both breathing just a little bit heavier and T'Challa's hands had mysteriously found their way onto her hips.

"Then do not act like I don't know when you like when you're in love," she murmured, gently nipping at his bottom lip. "I saw it with me, and I see now with M'Baku."

"I never freeze in front of him," T'Challa noted.

"But he certainly freezes when he sees you."

Nakia leaned back, still holding T'Challa's face in her hands. Her eyes squinted knowingly as she began to trace T'Challa's mouth with one of her thumbs.

"You should tell him," she repeated.

T'Challa brought his hands up to her wrists, grasping more for support than wanting to pull them away. He always felt sure and safe around Nakia, and he trusted her judgement more than he trusted his own, but...

"It is not that simple," he said, his eyes downcast. "I-- what if he is not ready, and I push him away? What if I push you away?"

Nakia flashed him a brilliant white smile, chuckling at him. Her laughter was like chimes in a breeze, bright and slow. "My Prince, there is nothing you could ever do to push me away." She leaned in close once more, pressing her lips against his ear. "And if we are being honest now, I would not terribly mind taking you both to bed."

"Nakia!"

She kissed him once on the temple and released his face. "Tell him," she said a third time. "He's in the waiting hall right now."

***

Even amongst the towering architecture of the royal palace, M'Baku of the Jabari was a towering figure. Perhaps it was the cut of the furs on his shoulders, or simply the way he held himself, but to T'Challa's eyes as he approached him, M'Baku seemed as huge as America's Hulk.

Yet as imposing and powerful as he looked, M'Baku was clearly nervous. He kept fiddling with the bracelets on his wrists when he thought no one was watching, and instead of remaining seated at one of the various benches adorning the waiting hall, he was pacing like a caged animal. The Dora Milaje were watching him warily, and other visitors had long since given him a wide berth, fearing that he was angry. T'Challa knew better. M'Baku was nervous, and Bast help him, it was adorable.

T'Challa stopped a few steps behind M'Baku on one of his circuits. The leader of the Jabari hadn't seen him yet, and seemed to be mumbling something under his breath. T'Challa cleared his throat politely.

"M'Baku," he said, the smile on his mouth bleeding into the name.

M'Baku's shoulders stiffened for the barest of moments, and then relaxed as he turned around. His eyes were wide, and in an instant his nervous look was gone, replaced by a smile so strong it brightened his entire face.

"My prince!" He laughed, closing the distance between them in a few long strides and wrapping T'Challa in a tight hug. T'Challa returned it happily, pressing his face into M'Baku's chest. The scent of leather and fur and wood-dust enveloped him like a blanket, and M'Baku only squeezed harder when T'Challa wrapped his arms around his middle, as if he was trying to press them completely together.

Then, too soon, it was over. M'Baku pulled away long enough to offer the Wakandan salute, and then his large hands were back on T'Challa, this time resting on his shoulders.

"I've missed you," he said.

"And I you," T'Challa replied, the words 'I love you' nearly slipping past before he hastily corrected them. "Does, um. Does something bring you here?"

Alright, so maybe he did freeze in front of M'Baku. Just a bit.

A serious look settled over M'Baku's features. "You," he said in a deep rumble that shook T'Challa to his very core. He suddenly felt like a War Dog: in too deep in foreign territory.

T'Challa swallowed around the weight that had settled in his throat. "Tell me," he said. "Please."

A small smirk broke the seriousness in M'Baku's face, followed by a sheepish look. His eyes dipped downwards. "I...Well, it's. You see. I..." he faltered, then said in a flurry. "I need to tell you that I love you."

T'Challa could feel Nakia laughing at them both from somewhere close. That woman! She knew them both too well.

_You should tell him._

T'Challa took a deep breath, and moved forward until there was hardly any space between them. From this close, he could hear M'Baku's heart jackhammering in his chest, or maybe it was his own heart? He didn't know. It was likely both, the entire country of Wakanda could hear them beating for one another in that instant.

_You should tell him._

T'Challa smiled at M'Baku. "I love you, too," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*distant Shuri screaming*_


	4. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/10, just wanted a reason to have to research Winston Duke in a suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well met, gentle readers!
> 
> Sorry this one is a bit short. Today ain't been the most bueno of days. In fact, it's been one of the most unbuenoest days in a long while, and alas my writing is always the first to suffer when my mood does.
> 
> But, it's still pretty dang awesome, and it's *here*. Be proud of the small accomplishments, fam. Sometimes they're all you got.
> 
> Enjoy~  
> -Miss Pop

The last person T'Challa expected to see outside a fancy New York City restaurant after his meeting with the Avengers (what few still remained around Stark, at least) was M'Baku, in a suit no less.

Beside him, Okoye snorted. "Unexpected things seem to gravitate towards you the moment you leave Wakanda, my King." Since the events with Zeemo, when T'Challa had unapologetically abandoned his Dora Milaje escort to hunt down the man that had murdered his father, Okoye had insisted on accompanying him every time he went to a foreign country, no matter how long or short the visit. By nature and training, she didn't care for surprises, but the appearance of M'Baku seemed to amuse her.

T'Challa snorted in return, his eyes glued on M'Baku. His boyfriend was dressed in a suit that fit too well, that hugged the angles and bulges of his body as perfectly as a glove, made of a pale, subtly vibranium-woven material that flashed silver in the right light. T'Challa couldn't help but smile. It wasn't hard to guess who might have helped design such a marvel.

When M'Baku caught sight of him, the look of discomfort that most Wakandans had the first time they ventured out of their country disappeared in favor of a smile. It was a smile T'Challa never saw M'Baku give to anyone else; a smile that made T'Challa feel like the most important man in the world.

He felt Okoye shift beside him, her relaxed stance betraying her thoughts on the matter far more than her words ever could. "Mr. Stark won't be happy if you stand up that dinner date he had planned," she pointed out in calm voice. "He was going to ask you to join his fractured Avengers."

"I know," said T'Challa, already beginning to move towards M'Baku. Okoye followed him step for step like a shadow. He didn't need to ask how she knew what Stark was planning; she had her ways of finding out, simple as that. "I'll be sure to tell him I had a more important date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*snickering*_ Is it terrible I find the idea of T'Challa standing up Tony Stark with no remorse incredibly funny? Like, don't get me wrong, I love Tony, always have, but the idea of him crossing dicks with another mega-rich dude who runs around in a metal suit and not coming out on top? _*claps!*_ Go be with your boyfriend, T'Challa. Tony, just deal.
> 
> Honestly, though, you fucking know Tony ended up somehow chaperoning for Shuri and Peter and a whole gaggle of suddenly appearing teenagers at that expensive NYC restaurant. Dad!Tony trumps all other variations of Tony.


	5. Reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "What trinkets or items does each member of your OTP keep with them to remind them of their significant other? A gift? A photograph? Something else?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations and good midnight, readers. I have a couple things to say.
> 
> First off, sorry about the late update. On the 4th, I found out that I won the essay contest I was telling you about a few chapters back! Yay! Bragging rights and a couple hundred bucks, and I even get to go read it out loud to a crowd. How horrifying, right? 
> 
> Second, on the 5th, my family and I had to put one of our dogs down. I'm a chatterbox about many things, but that's all I can and will say about that. You don't need to mention it in any comments. In fact, please don't.
> 
> Anyways, due to the emotional roller coaster nature of the past few days, updating yesterday was the last thing on my mind. So, I missed a date. For shame! I'll make it up to you. Twofer mcdoofer mañana, so girdle your loins, friends, and thanks for reading.
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> -Miss Pop

"There, finally finished!" Shuri exclaimed, holding up two bracelets to admire them beneath the sheen of her worktable lamp. Her voice ricocheted loudly through the tiny workroom, bouncing off the glass and milk-white walls to finally jerk T'Challa awake.

Not a jerk exactly; much more of a gentle nudge. T'Challa's eyes fluttered open while the rest of his body remained relaxed and pressed flush against M'Baku, who was still fast asleep in the seat beside him. M'Baku's shoulder rose and fell gently beneath T'Challa's cheek, his arm wrapped loosely over T'Challa's shoulders like a _seanamarena_ , holding him close.

T'Challa couldn't help but not move, why would he?

The answer quickly made itself apparent by moving away from her work table and running over to them, shouting, "Brother, I said they're done. Wake up!"

M'Baku stiffened and *actually* jerked awake under T'Challa, opening his eyes too fast and squinting up at the harsh laboratory lights.

"S'whawa'zah?" he garbled. "T'chlah?

Shuri, having come to a stop directly in front of them, kicked M'Baku politely in the shin. He grunted, confused.

"Hngh?"

"Shuri," T'Challa hissed. "Really?"

His little sister rolled her eyes, jingling the twin coils of beads in one hand. "Yes, really, brother, I did not stay up half the night making these for you two only for your man to drool all over my laboratory. Wake up, King of the Jabari! I have a present for you!"

A sense of existence finally came back to M'Baku in the form of an impressive scowl.

"Children should be more respectful," he growled.

"And so should adults," said Shuri. "Would you like to see what I have for you now?"

"Mm."

T'Challa expected Shuri to take offense. It wouldn't be the first time since he'd begun seeing M'Baku that the two exchanged verbal blows. It could qualify as a spectator sport at this point.

But Shuri simply ignored it, proudly holding out a bracelet to each of them, one dangling from each hand. They were made from kimoyo beads, shimmering blue-black and carved with Wakandan symbols. T'Challa took his and carefully looked it over, rolling each bead between his thumb and forefinger.

"It doesn't look any different from my old one," he said.

Shuri opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by M'Baku also taking his bracelet and letting out a gasp.

"Jabari wood!" he said as soon as it was in his hands. There was a softness to his eyes that T'Challa had never seen before as they turned up to focus on Shuri. "Does it...?"

"Work?" Shuri curtsies, the end of her lapcoat fluttering. "Of course it does. Everything grown in Wakanda has some vibranium in it, even that wood. It was only a matter of isolating that particular isotope and finding a proper sound frequency that could match my brother's. Then it was only a matter of aesthetic." She smirked. "Child's play."

M'Baku was all manner of awed as T'Challa looked on, and the King could hardly believe it. If there was one thing he'd begun to expect as eternal, it was that his boyfriend would never be impressed with his little sister.

Clearly, he had been wrong.

M'Baku's eyes moved back down to the bracelet as he slid it over his wrist. A perfect fit.  "Thank you, Shuri," he murmured. "This is...its amazing, truly."

T'Challa stole a sidelong glance at his sister, and found her close to bursting from joy at the compliment. She looked ready to bounce through the ceiling. Then she pulled a cellphone (one she'd insisted on picking up in New York City, to stay in touch with friends she had made there) from her pocket and held it up, the back facing M'Baku.

"Could you say that one more time, please?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuri has entire private Snapchat story consisting of Peter Parker and friends. They'll get a kick out of this. You know it, I know it, the universe knows it. Everyone knows it.
> 
>  **Seanamarena** : a Basotho tribal blanket. The Border Tribe does some nifty things with their's in the movie. Fabric woven with vibranium threads is epic.
> 
>  **Kimoyo beads** : a piece of advanced communication technology developed and used by Wakandans. Here's some insanely interesting details about them from the wiki.
> 
> "Prime Bead: The prime bead provides a lifetime worth of medical knowledge about the individual Wakandan. They are given this bead at birth
> 
> AV Bead: The audio/visual bead provides a holographic display allowing them access to the Wakandan database (which is similar to the internet). They can access video files and receive broadcasts on any frequency. The size of the projected screen can be altered from small personal use to larger for display purposes.
> 
> Communication Bead: Another can be used to communicate with other Kimoyo Beads much like mobile telephones. If the Wakandan moves their hand in a form of sign language they are able to send text messages.
> 
> Beads can be added for any situation such as: home and personal security, GEO tracking, etc."
> 
> HOW COOL IS THAT???? Goodness, Wakanda forever.


	6. New to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the children that M'Baku threatened he would feed Ross to? They exist, and they're goddamn adorable and obsessed with Baba's new boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flops at your feet and twitches some*
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> -Miss Pop

From the other room, T'Challa could hear the sound of multiple voices filtering through the wall. They were loud, excited, and intimidating.

He pressed his ear to the door with a look of utter despair, for, without any warning, the room had gone quiet. A few moments later, the door opened and released M'Baku, who shut it immediately after and stood in front of it like a guard.

T'Challa assumed a posture of nonchalance.

"Are you ready to meet them?" M'Baku asked.

T'Challa swallowed. "How many did you say you have again?"

M'Baku thought for a moment (not a good sign, T'Challa noted). "Six, with one more due in spring."

T'Challa saw his entire life flash before his eyes. "I'm ready," he said, entirely unready.

Nodding solemnly like a doctor to an incurable patient, M'Baku stepped away from the door. It was only then that T'Challa realized M'Baku hadn't been standing in front of the panel of painted wood to keep T'Challa *out*.

It was to keep his herd of offspring *in*.

A sea of small, curly-haired heads descended upon him, while a handful of taller ones remained beside M'Baku, smiling at the scene. One young woman was nearly as tall as M'Baku, with hair braided and thrown over her shoulder in a great pile. She had has face. Another young man hardly seemed like he could be related to M'Baku at all, he was small and thin with a long, pointed face and a nose twice as large as M'Baku's, but when the boy looked in T'Challa's direction (and then quickly away when their gazes accidently met), T'Challa's saw M'Baku in the tilt and wideness of his eyes. A girl beside the young man, shorter and stockier than the taller one with head shaven, elbowed her brother and said a few words in his ear. He smiled, and then she smiled, and her's was identical to M'Baku.

The group of younger children clamored one on top of the other, gripping at T'Challa's legs and the embroidery of his coat. One child climbed so high that T'Challa had to catch them when he nearly fell off. They were little more than a toddler, with wide eyes and hair braided into neat rows on their small scalp. They immediately began to touch T'Challa's face.

"Hi!" They said excitedly. "Hi!"

T'Challa smiled. "Well, hello there, little one. Can you tell me your name?"

The child blinked owlishly, and one of the other small children crowding around his legs answered.

"They don't have a name yet! They get it when they're three, Mama said."

"I want up! I want up, too!" Another child shouted, bouncing with their hands high in the air.

"Can you really become a panther?" Another wondered.

"Your clothes are funny," piped the first. "Where's all the fur? Don't you get cold?"

The questions and comments continued to build, until T'Challa couldn't keep up. That was when M'Baku stepped in, laughing as he took the child from T'Challa's arms and lifted another up onto his shoulders.

"Alright, alright! Tell T'Challa thank you --" a round of thank yous echoed through the room, with a nod of approval from M'Baku -- "and go to your mothers. T'Challa will be out in a moment."

A chorus of "but, whys" and "not yets" filled the air, but were quickly silenced with a single look from M'Baku. T'Challa was entranced by the power he held. Then the older children, led by the tallest girl, led the younger out of the room. It was only when the last child was gone that T'Challa let out a breath of relief.

"So, how do you like my children?"

T'Challa smiled with exhaustion at M'Baku. "I can see why you're such a formidable fighter now."

M'Baku laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a powerful need to explore these kids more. Maybe in a longer work? These are but fun teensy soundbites written whilst I have some time to myself.
> 
> I'll definitely include at least one of them in my longer M'Challa fic that I'm working on. Probably his eldest daughter. You can never have enough badass ladies.


	7. Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lengths T'Challa will go to make his hot Jabari boyfriend laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WILL catch up, I swear it on my honor as a... as a... humble fanfic-peddler? Sure, yeah. We'll go with that. 
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> -Miss Pop
> 
> PS: THANKS SO MUCH FOR GETTING ME TO 100 KUDOS, FOLKS! You're the best!!

When M'Baku laughed, T'Challa couldn't help but love it.

He had never been one to laugh often himself. A smile here, a soft chuckle there, but nothing as obscenely joyous as M'Baku's laugh. It was infectious, to say the least, brightening up the world around him like sunlight after a rainstorm.

It felt good to hear M'Baku's laugh, so T'Challa tried to make him laugh as often as possible.

It began with a few jokes -- M'Baku loved deadpan humor, as T'Challa came to discover -- and then grew. Soon, T'Challa began to look for jokes far from his usual repetoire. He went to the funniest person he knew for help when his own sources ran dry. He went to Shuri.

"Jokes?" Shuri asked, leaning up from her work desk and readjusting the protective goggles she'd been wearing up from her eyes and onto her forehead. "You asking for jokes? Brother, that's a funny joke itself."

Shuri chuckled at his expense and T'Challa smiled back.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, but it's not for me, it's for M'Baku. I...wish to make him laugh."

"Oh." Then Shuri snapped her fingers in understanding. "Ohhhh, I understand. Don't worry, I have just the thing." She fiddled with her kimoyo beads, with her back angled just enough to leave T'Challa unable to see what it was exactly she was doing. A few moments later, T'Challa felt his own beads buzz against the skin of his wrist. A sign that he had received a message.

When he moved to check it, Shuri whirled around and grabbed his hand before he could.

"No!" She said, wagging a finger in his face. "You can't open it until you're with M'Baku, or it won't be funny. Understand?"

T'Challa didn't, but he trusted his sister. "Alright, I'll go see him now."

Shuri smiled brilliantly, and patted his chest. "He will love it, I promise."

***

It was only once T'Challa and M'Baku were cuddled up next to each other in T'Challa's private chambers that T'Challa turned to him and said, "I have something to show you."

M'Baku glanced down at him, and adjusted his body so that they were pressed even closer together. "What is it?"

"Something that you're going to like." T'Challa gave M'Baku a small smile, and activated the video feature on his bracelet. By the time he realized what it was, it was already too late to stop it. Shuri must have planted a bug that prevented pausing into it.

The footage was clear, if a bit shakey. It showed T'Challa standing in front of a row of Black Panther suits on manikins. He kept looking back at the camera, and from outside the view of the lens, Shuri's voice rang loud and clear.

"I want you to hit it. As hard as you can..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need M'Baku to see that video with every fiber of my being. I need it more than breathing.


	8. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's GAY. Gaykanda. I-- never mind, that's stupid. Really stupid. Gaykanda? Really, me? And you call yourself a writer. 
> 
> Anyways, totally kinda Gaykanda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy to pleasantly warn everyone that this is a bit NSFW. These two locked lips and I couldn't leave it at that, I'm too weak. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> -Miss Pop
> 
> PS: no sex. Yet. Just some dom/sub undertones and fuckload of heavy petting.

Their lips met, and it was like sky meeting earth, daylight meeting night, a horizon of feeling so powerful that T'Challa was delirious with it only moments after M'Baku's lips met his.

Faintly, he was aware of the scratch of M'Baku's beard against his cheeks. It was that kind of pleasure mixed with pain that brought that the dormant heat between his thighs to life.

He was aware of the softness of M'Baku's lip, cool and wet like snowmelt, so different from all the rough-hewn parts of the man. Next was the taste. M'Baku tasted like crisp vegetation and sweet fruit. T'Challa instinctively hungered for more, like a starved man presented a wondrous feast. He didn't care if taking too much too fast hurt, he needed to fill himself with this taste. With M'Baku.

The other man grunted in surprise when T'Challa growled against his mouth and pushed his tongue past his lips and teeth, tugging at the color of his cloak to angle his head back to allow the perfect amount of access. M'Baku allowed himself to be pulled back, in fact, from the sudden weight against T'Challa's belly, it seemed he quite enjoyed it.

T'Challa felt his hunger grow, and he allowed himself to let go. Just this once, he allowed the power within his blood to have free reign. To control him instead of the other way around, and it was pleased.

T'Challa pressed dorward until M'Baku was completely prone beneath him, and continued circling his tongue into every crevasse of M'Baku's mouth. His breath leapt from his nose in sharp, short bursts, and his hand moved from M'Baku's neck to one of his wrists, grabbing it and pushing it up above his head. M'Baku laughed at that, pulling away from T'Challa's mouth just long enough to ask,

"Were you always this strong?"

T'Challa moved his free hand to M'Baku's crotch, marvelling at the way his eyes dilated when his hand snaked its way past  the waistband of his furred skirt and grabbed his length.

M'Baku didn't wait for an answer. His free hand shot up and behind T'Challa's head, fingers tangling in hair as M'Baku tugged him back down to crush their mouths, teeth clicking from the strength of it. The wrist trapped beneath T'Challa's strained with effort as it tried to pull free. T'Challa refused to let it; he enjoyed M'Baku on his back beneath him too much to give up his position yet.

As far as first kisses went, it was by far one of the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems the emotionally build-up has been getting to me more than I realized. Who knew an author could slow burn themselves? And with only about 5k words so far, no less! I truly am the weakest link.


	9. Thirdwheeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirdwheeling? No. Screw that. T'Challa, M'Baku, and Nakia go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a *breathes in* reeeeeally long time since I last updated, and I'm sorry about that. Totally effing failed on the 30 Day Challenge, but I'm still gonna finish these thirty prompts up anyway! And you know what they say, the longer a fic takes to complete the better it is...yeah, they say that. Yeah. Deffo. Don't question me on that!
> 
> Thanks for reading and for your patience. Enjoy~
> 
> -Pop

The air around them is thick with the scent of spices and people as T'Challa follows Nakia obediently through the crowded open marketplace. 

Vendors line the street on both sides, selling all manner of things. They pass a man selling kimoyo bead upgrades, grinning with all of his teeth as he holds up crystal-clear beads in his hands and insists that they'll never get a holographic picture as clear as the ones these offer. Then past a woman selling vibranium-thread in spools as big as her head who holds one up for Nakia to inspect. Nakia smiles and gently turns her down, turning instead to look for T'Challa in the crowd behind her. When she does, she gestures. _Almost there._

T'Challa tips his head in understanding, then turns around himself to find M'Baku standing still behind him like an island in the sea of moving bodies all around them. He's out of his Jabari garb save for the fur-lined cloak he had expressly refused to be parted with, dressed instead in a long-sleeved dashiki and loose trousers in a bright golden yellow that makes his dark skin shine. Both fit him perfectly, even if his dour expression says otherwise. Shuri really could work wonders.

"Nakia says we are nearly there."

M'Baku finally moves when he hears T'Challa speak, rolling his massive shoulders and massaging the back of his neck as he looks around. "Good. I do not know how you stand these crowds."

T'Challa smiles at him, taking his hand and leading him to the place that Nakia had stopped in front of. The entrance is set into a small alcove of brick and mortal -- unusual in their chiefly metal capital city. A thick curtain blocks the doorway, and there are no windows that T'Challa can easily find.

Nakia parts the curtain with her wrist at their approach. Her eyes are shining excitedly, waiting for their approval.

"It's..." T'Challa begins, searching for the right word as he looks around the dimly lit restaurant.

"Tiny." M'Baku finishes, eyeing the establishment warily.

Nakia snorts at them both. "This is authentic Wakandan cuisine."

"Is not all food in Wakanda considered authentic Wakandan cuisine?" M'Baku shoots back, unimpressed.

T'Challa laughs. He can't help it, and neither can Nakia. Even M'Baku cracks a smile at their laughter. "It's authentic Border Tribe cuisine," Nakia explains as they walk in. "The ambiance is exactly how it should be, I assure you."

They're led to a squat stone table surrounded by cushions. T'Challa and M'Baku take the side closest to the wall while Nakia takes the space across from them. The waitress who guides them -- a girl even younger than Shuri, but who shares a presence about her which says without words that she knows exactly what she is doing -- smiles brightly as she introduces herself, and shows them how they can order using their kimoyo beads. She asks what they would like to drink last. Nakia orders alcohol for herself (and for T'Challa with a nod and without needing to double-check) and M'Baku orders water with a grunt. He still has a frown as he surveys the tiny establishment with a witheringly critical eye, but T'Challa already sees the line of his wide shoulders beginning to relax in an environment so different from outside. From across the table, Nakia smiles when she notices it too, and that smile widens when M'Baku lets out a surprised gasp when he finally opens up the menu.

"Homemade Egusi soup? Vegetarian style? I haven't had that since--!" He cuts himself off with a shy pucker of his lips when Nakia can't help but giggle a little. He attempts to compose himself, but it's simply too late. He's already shrugging off the furs adorning his shoulders and making himself truly at home. "Well," he says, feigning indignation that fools none of them. "They had better have a decent pounded yam to go with it, or this date will not be a success." His face cracks into a smile, and he wraps one lazy arm over T'Challa's shoulders. Nakia leans on her hands looking at them, a hunger for something other than food glinting prettily in her eyes.

T'Challa decides that this date is already a success, whatever may happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Egusi Soup** \- West African cuisine, and damn delicious. Best with pounded yams, and with meat but well. M'Baku.
> 
> PS: I made a Pillowfort account, if anyone is interested on following me over there! I'm Apophthengomai. Come say hello, I need friends!


End file.
